


Forest's Requiem

by LogosMinusPity



Category: Mai-HiME
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Demons, F/F, Feudal Japan, Gods, Princess Mononoke much?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogosMinusPity/pseuds/LogosMinusPity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Times are changing in the feudal era-the world of the old gods is passing. The Fujino clan looks to conquer an ancient forest once held sacred, but the gods may not go so easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to resurrect this from the uncharted depths of my hard drive. Consider this to be a Mai HiME story that was heavily influenced by myth and stories like Princess Mononoke. Enjoy!

Yuuichi Tate adjusted his buckler nervously. He could feel his leather gloves absorbing the dank sweat of his hand as he gripped his spear. The great forest mountain—now called the Cursed Mountain by many—had not seemed so fell from a distance. When they had begun approaching the eastern reaches of Lord Fujino's lands yesterday, the vibrantly green mountain in the distance could have easily been dismissed as being no different than any other mountain Yuuichi had seen in his time spent soldiering. But now that they were crossing beneath the lone mountain, barely an hour from their final destination of Oaken Ridge, an unpleasant sensation of nausea had settled in his abdomen.

He knew he was not the only man who felt this, he simply hid it better than others. The men in his caravan he was guarding—all of the various skilled miners and carpenters that they were bringing to the town—had long since ceased their casual banter. Now all too many of them sat above their wagons silently, or laughed and talked in voices that were overly loud and forced.

He had not heard the stories until they had been several nights on the road. He had, like most soldiers who had lived on the forefront of fighting battles to claim land between the bitter warlords, assumed that they were guarding the caravan from bandits and ronin. And yet, as they began to approach the Cursed Mountain, he heard the stories from craftsmen who traveled with him.

"Legends," had scoffed one merchant, who hailed from several provinces away, and had never even been this far east into Fuuka province before.

"No!" hissed another, insistent. "Not legends. The anger of the old gods. Sometimes the beasts of the forest themselves, and sometimes a monstrous great black mountain cat. But often times a great wolf, larger than a beast of burden, and with eyes the color of tree leaves in the summer."

His voiced had dropped, and the man had looked around suspiciously, crossing his hands against evil. "And sometimes, as a women. An evil sending of a princess, as beautiful as the night sky but with death in her eyes and on her hands."

Most people, like the soldiers, like Yuuichi, had laughed. But some had shaken their heads and made signs to dispel evil. The clips of the merchants' tales weighed heavily on his mind now, and he found himself wishing that he had paid more attention to their fanciful tales.

Yuuichi went to adjust his buckler once more and looked over to find his best friend and captain doing the same. He and Takeda Masashi grinned at each other, a motion of genuine amusement that suddenly helped release the tension from both of them.

"Guess everyone's a little nervous when we're under the shadow of the mountain, eh?" said Takeda, the old scar on his face crinkling as he talked. It had been the unlucky imprint left from a stray piece of shrapnel when he had shattered an opponent's inferior sword in single combat years ago. That story alone had given him great honor and a reputation that he had traveled with since.

"Yeah," replied Yuuichi. "Everyone except Lord Kanzaki himself."

He pointed with his spear toward where he knew just up ahead on the path, their noble leader Reito Kanzaki was leading the vanguard of his troops before the caravan.

Takeda guffawed at this. "I don't think anything intimidates that man."

Reito was by far the youngest and most talented of all of the noble vassals that swore allegiance to their warlord, Lord Fujino. He had grown up with lesser honors than the other nobles, born from the marriage of two once famed but long since decayed clan lines. However, Reito single-handedly rebuilt the honor and strength of the Kanzaki clan, recruiting and training men who became the most loyal, hardy soldiers in all of Lord Fujino's holdings. With his polished record of never having lost a single battle, Reito had quickly skyrocketed through the ranks of other vassals, becoming one of Lord Fujino's most trusted confidants, much to the chagrin of other older clan lords. Why they were being now sent to Oaken Ridge, far from the battles with other warlord's troops, Yuuichi could not fathom, but he refused to believe that it was because his lord had fallen out of favor with the Fujinos. Lord Kanzaki and Takeda had promised to explain all once they had reached Oaken Ridge, and so his loyal soldier held it on him to reserve all questions until then.

Takeda and Yuuichi shared a grin once again, both starting to feel foolish for allowing such old wive's tales to unsettle them. Then as Takeda went to open his mouth to speak again, he suddenly stopped, his eyes bulging slightly, and a trickle of blood seeping out of his mouth. His hands simultaneously went to the massive arrow bolt that was now protruding through his armor and chest.

In that long silent moment before Takeda crumpled to the ground, Yuuichi's eyes flew back up past Takeda, searching for where the arrow must have surely come from. There, standing on great tree branch off the path, was a lone woman. She was surely one of the most beautiful Yuuichi had ever laid eyes upon. In the dark forest, she wore simple, glistening, white robes, and her long raven hair gleamed even in the shadows of the trees. She fixed him with a murderous glare from eyes that looked like solid jade even as she turned away from him, going to drop down from the tree, a great archer's bow in one hand.

Yuuichi came crashing back to reality as Takeda hit the ground with a muted thump. "To arms!" he roared.

Pandemonium broke loose. As soon as he let loose his call… _something_ …barreled into the caravan with force of about ten charging oxen. The air was a cacophony of sound, mixed with the screams of dying men and horses, the yells of soldiers, and wild roaring of something else. Yuuichi tried to dive into the fray but was knocked back by a fleeing mule.

A strong hand suddenly hauled him up and out of the mud before he could be trampled. He looked up to see none other than Lord Kanzaki himself, astride his fleet, coal black warhorse, complete with his samurai armor. The rest of the vanguard was aligned behind him, spears and swords ready as they caught flashes of white tearing through the caravan, careening steadily toward them.

"Steady, Tate," spoke Reito. He had a deep tenor that could cut through chaos and command order with ease, and it immediately quelled Yuuichi's panicking mind. Reito hefted a great charging spear on his horse, readying himself to take whatever foul creature was about to rush toward them himself. His warhorse pranced, snorting in anticipation.

Then, with a great roar, the beast broke through the caravan. Tate nearly gaped in shock. It was a white wolf, far larger than any wolf had a right to be. It stood at least ten feet tall, taller than any horse and broader than any oxen.

There was a collective gasp as Reito dug into the sides of his stallion, urging it forward.

He charged toward the wolf, launching his spear out at just the right moment to leave a fatal wound.

Tate was not the only soldier to gasp in surprise when the wolf threw itself clear over the attacking weapon, as though it had known precisely what Lord Reito was going to do.

The momentum of his foiled attack left Reito imbalanced as he tried to slow his stallion down and turn around. The demon wolf had already turned on a dime and was closing in for a second, open-sided attack from behind.

Much to Tate's profound relief, though, Reito was a quick thinker. Without hesitating, he threw himself off of his priceless horse even as the wolf clamped its jaws down on the saddle where he would have been seated only a second earlier.

The stallion gave a high scream of pain as its spine cracked in half, falling to the ground dead as the wolf released it from its iron-jawed grip.

Reito crouched on the ground, waving a hand to keep his men back from rushing in to aid him. He narrowed his storm gray eyes, sizing up his foe. He would not be outdone.

The wolf slowly turned to him, the crimson blood that now dripped from its mouth at sharp contrast with the snow-white fur and the piercing green eyes.

Then it charged again.

This time, Raito tumbled rolled right past the wolf as it pounced at him—a graceless move for a samurai of his status, but a calculated one. Now behind the wolf, he thrust his lancer spear as hard as he could up toward the vast right shoulder blade of the demon.

Though the fur seemed to constrict and press back his thrust, his stroke was true, and the blade pierced flesh.

The wolf let out a howl of pain as its fur turned red, knocking Raito back as it shook the spear loose.

Seeing the soldiers rally behind Raito this time, weapons drawn, it let out what seemed to be a snarl of frustration, then rushed into the forest, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake.

There was a drawn out moment of motionless silence, broken only by the moans of dying men and animals, as the soldiers and craftsmen alike waited, daring to see if the attack was truly over.

When Reito calmly walked over to reclaim his fallen spear, the tension broke.

With the beast gone, Yuuichi rushed back toward Takeda's side, but he had been through enough battles in his life to know when it was too late. The arrow that had struck his friend had struck true, shattering armor and bone to cut through his heart. His face was already cold and bruising with settled blood when Yuuichi flipped him up to check for a pulse or breath.

You would think that he would have been used to death by now; used to dealing it as much as receiving it. But the loss of a friend and leader he had known as long as his own life struck him like punch in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He hadn't even been given the option to die honorably in battle. He had been assassinated quietly, by some witch of the forest.

A keen rose out of Yuuichi's throat as he mourned. He both felt and heard Lord Kanzaki approach from behind him, and could sense the very moment when his lord realized that his captain had been slain by an arrow, and not the wolf.

Reito knelt down and laid a gentle hand on Yuuichi's shoulder, understanding. "Come brother, we must finish making our way to Oaken Ridge. It is what Captain Masashi would have wanted for you."

For a second time that day, Reito helped haul Yuuichi to his feet. He calmed his mind, and looked into his lord's gray hued eyes. "And once we are at Oaken Ridge, my lord?"

Reito stared back calmly, his eyes holding the promise and hope of vengeance. "Why, then I shall explain a great many things, and then…then, Tate, you and I shall talk."

After Yuuichi Tate was back on his feet, Lord Reito Kanzaki turned around to survey the damage that had been done. He had lost a fine captain, but held no doubts that Yuuichi would be a capable replacement. Aside from that, though the guerilla attack had been devastating, it also could have easily been far worse.

As Reito directed his soldiers to begin salvaging the wrecked caravan, he looked up at the rocky outcropping through the trees where the wolf had disappeared through, and further up at the misty clouds that hid the upper strata of the mountain.

 _So this is my enemy_ , he mused. It seemed as though Oaken Ridge was going to prove more of a worthy challenge that he initially thought.


	2. A Journey to Somewhere

The great white wolf scaled the mountain in leaps and bounds, racing through trees and fallen boulders until it passed through the misty cloud forest. When it emerged above the clouds, it began to slow down, padding through a rocky path until it arrived on the vast precipice of a cliff wall that jutted out of the side of the mountain to overlook the surrounding forest and valley. It stood, as if surveying its lands, eyes betraying a keen intelligence surpassing that of any normal wolf. A gust of wind blasted around the mountainside, and where the wolf had stood but a moment before there was now stood a slim young woman.

It was, indeed, the very same woman whom the soldier Tate Yuuichi had laid eyes on for a brief moment naught but an hour earlier. Her eyes continued to watch over the land before resting on the lone town that sat in valley, at the foot of the mountain. It was there that edges of the forest ended. From her altitude, the town appeared only as a small collection of lights and wisps of smoke, but she sneered at it nonetheless.

After another minute of silent staring, she turned and continued her journey into the forest, following the steady trickle of a stream back toward the source of its origin.

She followed some unseen footpath with the ease of one who has traversed it many times, never stopping to orient herself even as she dove deeper into the forest, slowly ascending the mountain.

After many minutes of uninterrupted travel, she halted again, coming to a wall of shaggy pines and willow trees that obscured her view of what lay beyond. Bowing her head ever so slightly, she pushed aside the shadowy branches of a pine tree, walking through to the other side of the wall of trees.

She stepped into the dappled light of a sheltered grove, setting foot on virgin ground that no mortal had ever disturbed. Even the forest animals left this area well enough alone. Though the humans had steadily chipped away at the power and sway the Old Gods once held over this mountain, enough of the old blood still flowed to make the animals smarter than the average beast of burden. Even if they no longer remembered why, nobles had long since given up trying to hunt for sport in the lands that lay under the shadow of the sacred mountain.

At the far end of the grove there stood an ancient ash tree, its trunk so wide at the base that if a grown man tried to wrap his arms about it he would not even encircle half of it. The tree was surely centuries old to have grown to such a scale. Though it grew next to the sheer rocky face of the mountain, its powerful roots had long since cracked and shattered the glittering sheets of granite that would have otherwise impeded its growth.

She called it the sacred tree, and in all of her time as a guardian on the mountain, it was the closest thing she had seen to the great spirit of the forest.

Currently, two recognizable figures lay in the shade beneath the green canopy of the sacred tree.

She didn't bother to spare either of them a glance, instead darting down toward the pool of spring water that lay in the center of the grotto, the source of the stream she had been following.

She cupped her pale hands and dipped them into the pool, drinking feverishly from the crystal clear water.

The spring water slid down her throat, cool and refreshing. It immediately slaked both hunger and thirst, restoring her fatigue and easing the dull pain of her wound.

Only after she had finished drinking did she turn toward the two goddesses who watched her.

Mikoto and Mai had been her long time companions on the mountainside, both at least as old as the forest itself. Mikoto was the cat goddess, appearing now in her human form as a young, gangly girl with a mess of short dark hair and unnaturally grave eyes that made her look at home in her priests robes and carrying her staff.

Mai, on the other hand, took the form of a buxom young woman, with hair the color of flame and eyes like amethyst quartz. Both were equally startling, but in very different ways. They were the closest thing she had to friends or family, she supposed.

As she approached the two, Mikoto suddenly shifted, tilting her head up.

"I smell blood," she said, her nostrils flaring as she tested the air.

Mai's eyes immediately locked onto Natsuki. "What did you do to yourself, Natsuki?"

"Mai…" pleaded Natsuki, telling herself that she was _not_ whining. "It's already healing over. It's nothing. Honestly."

"Let me look at it," demanded Mai, in a tone that brooked no argument. Natsuki called it her "mothering" tone, and knew that any argument was lost as soon as Mai adopted that tone.

She grumbled but pulled her shirt off, going to rest her arms on a rock for support while Mai examined the wound on her back. It was not the first time she had been wounded by a foolish and persistent mortal, but it was the first time in some great many years, and she mentally berated herself over it. She had underestimated the young lord, thinking him to be as overconfident and cocky as all of the others before him. Her eyes narrowed coolly as she remembered his face. With his midnight hair and storm gray eyes, she supposed that he would be considered quite handsome by most girls in this day and age, but he radiated danger to her.

She would not underestimate him a second time.

More than his person, though, she feared what his arrival meant. It had been over fifty years since Natsuki had last stepped foot in a human village. Each progressive time she had entered one, it had become increasingly harder. The claustrophobia of the tightly packed houses and walls, the stench of humans and industry…that last time it had taken all of her self-control to stay in the village for the few hours she was there, and not to go racing out in her wolf form to dart into her forest home and feel the spirit of the mountain shelter her.

Nonetheless, she still heard enough from the passing caravans to know that the Fujino clan was, as ever, still in control over these lands. Generation after generation, each Fujino lord had arrogantly tried to build another town in the shadow of the mountain where the ruins of the last attempt still smoked, each one thinking that he, unlike his predecessors, would master the Old Gods and rip open the mountainside to rape it of its precious resources. None had succeeded. And yet, year after year the reach and power of the forest had slowly been pushed back.

Why, even fifty years ago the Fujinos wouldn't have dreamed of being able to build a settlement where Oaken Ridge now stood.

That the current Lord Fujino now sent so many troops under such a young, capable general signaled ill portents to Natsuki. An involuntary shiver ran through her.

"You're right, it's already healing over, so you can stop shivering and put your shirt back on now," interrupted Mai. Natsuki let out a low grunt in response and acquiesced.

When she turned about, she nearly jumped a foot when she found wide eyes the color of molten gold staring at her from not even a foot away.

Natsuki attempted a glare at Mikoto, but failed at such close proximity. The tiny cat goddess leaned in a few more uncomfortable inches, her ears and nose twitching curiously as though she had never even seen Natsuki before.

"Humans?" she asked.

Natsuki snorted in a very wolf-like fashion. "Yes. What else would this be from?'

"Why did you let yourself get hurt?"

Natsuki bristled at the comment, knowing that she should have never been so careless as to let herself get injured. As the cat goddess, Mikoto too possessed an ability to transform into a larger than life great mountain lion; it was the black to Natsuki's white, the feline to her lupine, but as equally ferocious and terrifying. Unlike Natsuki, though, Mikoto had used her bestial form more sparingly.

The cat goddess had once had been a steadfast companion on many of Natsuki's excursions, yet in the past few decades, this had become an increasingly rarer occurrence.

She rounded on Mikoto, her embarrassment fueling her bitterness. "Maybe I wouldn't have been injured had you been there to guard my back."

Her verbal attack elicited neither guilt nor even anger. Rather, Mikoto pulled back, her eyes sad as they looked past Natsuki into some unknown distance.

"Ten caravans destroyed or a thousand…makes no differences," she spoke, leaning into her glittering gold priest's staff. It reflected the light ponderously in the shelter of the grove. Mikoto shook her head again. "The humans will keep coming."

Natsuki reeled back, as if physically struck by the words. "Surely, you don't mean that. You _can't_ mean that."

The cat girl simply shook her head again, sitting down on the stone that Natuski had rested her arms on but a minute earlier. She continued to lean into her staff. The light twinkled out against the polished gold, and the shadows on her face suddenly made the cat goddess look very, very old for all that she appeared as a young girl.

Natsuki turned toward Mai, sensing that Mikoto had no words left to say. "Why would she say that, Mai? _Why?_ "

Natsuki gestured out toward the grove, spreading her fingers in a questioning manner, as if begging for an answer.

The flame-haired goddess exhaled loudly, turning her eyes up toward the late afternoon sky.

When she finally spoke, her voice came as if from far away, her eyes looking toward something beyond the sky.

"Not all is as it once was, Natsuki." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "I fear that the times begin to change—that they have been changing for some time now. This war you wage with the humans, is it truly our war to be fighting?"

Natsuki felt even more stunned than when Mikoto had spoken to her.

"How can you even think that?" she cried, her voice cracking at the end of the question.

"This world, _our_ _world_ , will die if the humans have their way!" Natsuki gestured out with both of her hands a second time, feeling anger rise in the face of desperation. "If we don't protect the spirit of the forest, than who will?"

"And what if you cannot protect the forest spirit, Natsuki?" asked Mai, her face and voice ever calm. "What if your fight against the humans amounts to naught in the end?"

"Then at least I will have given myself over to a worthy cause," yelled Natsuki. "But I cannot…no, I _refuse_ to lay over and die for the sake of greedy, mindless humans!"

Mai's violet eyes remained steady. "Are you so quick to forget that you, too, were once human?"

Natsuki roared at the words, moving before she even thought. In the blink of an eye, she had pinned Mai against the great ash tree, one hand around her throat. Her teeth were bared in fury. Mikoto had jumped up from where she lounged but a moment earlier, clutching her golden staff, her forehead wrinkled in confusion and worry.

Mai paused for several seconds, appearing neither afraid nor intimidated. "Would you spill blood here, Natsuki? In this sacred space?"

Natsuki trembled as she stared up into the shaded branches that sheltered her overhead, suddenly aware of herself and what she was doing. She jerked back from Mai as if burned, staring wide-eyed at her traitorous hands.

The other goddess adjusted her disheveled robe precariously before finally looking back at the woman who had assaulted her but a moment before. This time her amethyst irises were sad, filled with worry and regret. "We are not you enemy, Natsuki; we're your friends."

Natsuki stared single-mindedly into the ground, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her face was ashen with shame.

"I—I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I should go."

She bowed her head toward Mai, then took quick leave of the grove, grabbing her bow before falling back into the line of trees.

After Natsuki had exited the grove, Mikoto strode up to Mai. Both visages reflected the same face of sorrow.

"Mai…" whined Mikoto.

A hand reached out to scratch the cat god's head. "I know. The anger is beginning to consume her heart, but I fear there is little we can do."

They looked toward where their companion had left. "She must find the path herself."

The last rays of the dying sun were disappearing under the western horizon when Natsuki arrived back at what she colloquially termed her "den".

The small cave was her personal refuge and home, free from all and any visitors except for the occasional wolf pack that passed by, drawn to her simple home by the power she commanded. It overlooked the mountainside and valley, and currently provided a stunning view of the stars as they began to sparkle into life in the swiftly growing twilight. Natsuki was unable to appreciate the scenery as she took a seat on the cliff edge, though. Her mind was trapped in thoughts, too many of which she had been trying to ignore for far too long.

For over the last two hundred years, Natsuki had reigned as the wolf god, waging a tireless battle to repel the encroaching humans. But though she would never admit it out loud, she knew in the deepest recesses of her mind the terrible truth: she was slowly losing the war.

No matter how many times she sabotaged caravans, destroyed lumber operations, and ruined settlements and towns, the next generation of sons and daughters would come back. Each year they chipped further and further away at the borders of the forest, diminishing its power and its reach with their growing population and settlements. Despite the stories and the legends that had been built up around the forest for centuries, the humans refused to give way before the Old Gods whom they had once lived with in peaceful reverence. The Fujinos would not rest until they had subdued the forest to their will—this Natsuki knew in her very bones, and it was a thankless knowledge.

Perhaps not this generation, perhaps even not for another few centuries, but eventually the forest would fall. Natsuki would fight to her dying breath to stave it off, or she would die on the same day that the great forest spirit, who watched over all of the creatures on the mountain—god and animal alike—died too.

Her mind drifted back to the confrontation with Mai earlier in the day. She tried to keep her lips from curling. Mai, like the benevolent spirit she was, simply didn't understand.

While Natsuki rarely thought of her long forgotten days amongst the humans anymore, she forced her mind back to them, and back to all of the experiences her memories held with humans since becoming a guardian of the mountain.

Humans were worthless, through and through. At the best of times, they were petty, crude, malicious, and warlike, not to mention they smelled terribly. Perhaps there had once been values and codes of honor, courage, and respect in the species, but those long-buried qualities had already been dying out centuries ago. She had seen the horrors and atrocities that humans committed toward each other on a regular basis. To expect them to regain such values, to "hope" for it—it was a fool's hope, without a doubt.

She would admit that perhaps, just perhaps somewhere, there might be someone, some lone individual who held to the old ways that had once allowed gods and men to walk side by side, but Natsuki doubted that such a person could make a difference in a species so corrupted by its own filth.

She knew it was a pessimistic view, but she had long since learned not place her faith in something so weak and fragile as hope, particularly when it involved mortals.

Heaving a sigh of mixed emotions, she retreated into her lair. She carefully unstrung her massive ash wood bow, leaning the bow and quiver of arrows by a similarly sculpted spear along the rock wall of the cave. Though the spear was of regular make, she had hand-carved the massive long bow from a great branch that had fallen from the sacred tree many decades ago. It was a bow that she doubted any mortal could string; even for ash, the wood had been incredibly heavy and unyeilding, and yet the bow was always light and pliable in Natsuki's hands. It was easily strung, never needed maintenance, and had never once missed a shot.

She knew, with a sense of dread fatalism, that she would need its unerring accuracy now more than ever.

Natsuki expelled the breath from her lungs in a great whoosh, falling onto her back in the same motion. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, even while her mind remained awake, pulling up the image of a great white wolf with shining eyes of gold, a memory from many ages long since past.


	3. The Journey to the West

s the bright rays of morning light dawned over Oaken Ridge, the village came to life, bustling with movement and noise.

This morning was special.

The newly designated master of the settlement took his usual breakfast in the dining hall of his small compound. He ate his rice porridge with a casual leisure, steadfastly ignoring the bustling maids about him who scurried to clean the building and hang new tapestries on the walls.

After taking his morning meal, Reito returned to his chambers, taking an extended bath and carefully dressing in his best robes for outside of the formal Imperial Court; the simple ceremonial tanto in his belt was the only weapon he adorned himself with for today. He surveyed himself meticulously in the glassy mirror proffered by one of his dressing servants.

Though it had cost him dearly at the time, the glossy black Chinese silk of the robe had been a wise purchase, resting easily on him despite the hot weather of the summer day. The delicately rich embroidery of the garment complimented his ebony hair even while it accentuated his gray eyes, calling attention to the noble bloodlines that showed through in his face.

Pleased with his appearance, he dismissed the servant, and turned to stand before the paneled window of his room, gazing out over the busy young town that lay before his palatial residence. The entire town was undergoing a beautiful transformation this day, all for the sake of one person.

On this day, thought Reito, Oaken Ridge would be receiving its new lady. And he would be receiving his new fiancée.

* * *

Shizuru Fujino absentmindedly fanned herself from within the confines of her palanquin. For all that her flawless complexion betrayed not a single drop of sweat, she still detested traveling in the summer.

The wet heat of the growing day was nearly imperceptible if walking or riding, wherein the westerly winds would cool the skin before it could overheat. However, within the confines of her traveling litter, it became stagnant, unvisited by any wind except that which she or her handmaidens could muster from their own hand fans.

She heaved a sigh, wishing not for the first time that she didn't have to travel in this formal carriage. Her father had been adamant that she travel in a manner befitting a lady of her station. Never mind that she could ride saddle or bareback with the best of soldiers, or even ride sidesaddle in a kimono as she wore now; never mind that she had practiced wielding the naginata since she was a child; never mind that they were now traveling in territory so close to the old forests and Oaken Ridge that they needn't worry about encountering any other human.

No, both her father and the guards would not budge even an inch over the matter. The master of the guard had been properly horrified when she first mentioned it. He had bowed his head, apologizing profusely but reminding her that a daughter of the Fujinos needed to ride in the litter, both for her prestige as well as for her safety, as she would surely be recognized without the carriage curtains to hide her face.

Perhaps if she hadn't inherited the tell-tale Fujino eyes. For all that the vast majority of the people of Nippon bore the same black hair and dark eyes, the Fujinos seemed to have ever stood out—Shizuru in particular. The piercing gaze of their nearly crimson irises had been recorded since time immortal, and as if to top it off, Shizuru carried a soft mane of tawny brown hair, a gift from her foreign grandmother's blood. Not once in her life had she ever been able to walk freely without recognition of which clan's blood she bore in her veins, a blessing and a curse both in and out of court.

Nonetheless, she felt as though the ornate carriage was equally as attention-grabbing. She permitted herself a second sigh, knowing that she was being obstinate over the matter.

One of her personal attendants, a sweet, well-meaning girl named Aoi, took notice of the sharp exhalation of breath, mistaking it for boredom.

"Don't worry, Mistress Fujino, surely it cannot be more than another hour's ride until we reach Oaken Ridge."

Shizuru bestowed a gentle smile on the girl, schooling her emotions with an ease that came from years of practice.

"Indeed. I do wonder what it shall be like. Do you not?"

The hand servants burst into excited chatter among themselves at the question, allowing Shizuru to delicately disengage herself from the conversation and return to her own private thoughts. Though she chose not to engage in the conversation, she could not help but wonder what exactly this new settlement would be like, and she could not say she was particularly enthused at the prospects. She had, after all, spent the majority of her life in and around Kyoto, beginning with her birth at the nearly palatial Fujino winter home on the outskirts of the capital.

The Fujino name was an old one, and their "winter home" in Kyoto had been their ancestral grounds since the first Fujino warlord had amassed power enough to create a clan many hundreds of years ago. The original small house that ancestor Shun Fujino had constructed had since been vastly expanded upon to result in the modern day sprawling complex that served as the "winter home" of the Fujino patriarchs, for when there was no fighting to be done and they were to attend upon the Imperial Court. Even the Fujiwara clan could not claim any tract of land quite so well placed and manicured as the Fujinos. It was within the bounds of Kyoto so that they could easily travel to Court without having to stay in the palace overnight, but still far-enough removed to provide the luxury of home and privacy, and it was the place that Shizuru had lived in almost exclusively for the whole of her life. Oh, she had traveled as needed when needed to fulfill a courtly request or a familial duty, but she had always returned to her home in Kyoto.

 _Ah, Kyoto_ , she mourned silently, and for more than one reason.

Here she was now, on her way to some backwater "settlement" to join her betrothed. She had no doubt that her father and Reito had worked hard to ensure that her every need would be met while in Oaken Ridge. There would still be the same hustle of servants at her beckon and call, still many of the same luxury import items delivered specifically for her use, but it would be impossible to recreate the urban splendor of the capital city. Even more than that, it would be the limitations of who she was and where she was. Oaken Ridge was no Imperial Court; it was not even an economic crossroads or traveler's way station. It was a village on the edge of the wilds. And how Shizuru already greatly missed Court; she loved the intrigue and hidden thrill of the Imperial social scene, perhaps in large part because she had become so uncannily good at playing the game. There had never been a moment when the nobles could not remember the young Fujino daughter being in the good graces of the Emperor, or not associating with the current favored clan or new lords and ladies being presented. No, she had become very good at always wearing the right mask, and it was said that even the Empress herself had mentioned offhand to the Fujiwara dowager that Shizuru's transfer to Oaken Ridge would be a loss for the entire Court.

But, alas, here she was, at the behest of her father.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the memories that had been so heavily weighing on her mind—the entire reason that she had, after all, left her residence at the Emperor's palace to travel out to these uninhabited ends of the country.

She had knelt on the cushioned floor of the "sunset room" in her father's wing of their residence, automatically assuming a modest head bow before her father. She had heard the soft rustle of his robes as he turned around to face her, only newly returned back from a brief trip he had taken to the Taira clan's home in Nara. He had spared her no pleasantries or flowery introductions.

"I have promised your hand in marriage to Lord Reito Kanzaki."

There had been no question in it. It had been a verdict almost. Final, and absolute. She had always known that she would marry Reito, perhaps even before her father realized it. She knew that it had been her mother's wish when she still lived many years before, though Shizuru had not understood the full complications of marriage at that time in her youth.

Reito had simply always been another young noble, the son of family allied with her father, though one no where near as wealthy or influential. If anything, the Kanzaki clan had been on the verge of complete collapse when Reito inherited it on his own father's death. And yet, he had grown into more than an even match for a Fujino.

Watching the two of them grow and mature had been like watching a jeweler shine a gemstone. Rough edges slowly polished out into glowing attributes. Shizuru had developed a mind as clever and quick as the best of scholars behind the mask of a Kyoto lady of perfect grace and delicacy, while Reito has evolved into a master warrior and stratagem, hidden behind the appearance of courtly manners and handsome looks as he rebounded his entire clan into a small but considerable force.

They were indeed well matched for each other.

Nonetheless, she had still hoped that she would have had another year or two left before the engagement would occur. It was not to say as though she detested Reito, nor that he detested her. Rather, it was simply that she had never felt particularly attracted to him. Both had known that their fates and futures were intertwined as surely as the sun and the moon were, yet she could not deny that within her heart, she did not love him for all that she had known him for much of her life.

It was a truly political marriage at the end of the day. Shizuru would provide Reito with the prestige and favor of the Fujino name, as Reito would provide Shizuru with protection and power that the Kanzaki clan now held. She supposed that they would simply learn to love each other, just as Shizuru's mother and father had learned to love each other after many years of marriage.

Of course, that did not mean that she had to look forward to being forced out to this forsaken settlement here at the ends of the earth in order to meet with her newly announced fiancé in accordance with her father's wishes. But Noboyuki Fujino had insisted that she accompany Reito on his last mission before he was officially named the Fujino heir in front of her father's vassals. Perhaps it was because she was being forced out of Kyoto that she felt more petulant that usual concerning her arrangement to go to Oaken Ridge. To be fair, a part of her was in all honesty actually quite curious about the opportunities that Oaken Ridge was affording both her and Reito. She had never been this far east into her father's lands, and her father had only sparingly told her the most base details before she departed on her journey. Of course, there were the other stories she had heard at court—who hadn't heard them every now and then? But she, like any sensible noble, had dismissed them; she was a skeptic at heart, uncertain of anything but sure experience. If there was anything so truly out of control from her father's grasp, surely she would have it from his mouth, though he was always particularly tight-lipped about the eastern lands. It left a few nagging questions clawing at the back of her mind, as of yet unanswered. And now she had entered the uncharted territory.

Thus far, it was slightly disappointing if anything, though she attributed much of that to her displeasure at her current mode of travel. She silently thanked the powers above that the mosquito population was not terrible in these lands.

The mental solitude of her palanquin was suddenly disturbed when she heard one of her guards yell in what was obviously fear and surprise. Her litter stopped quickly, making her jolt forward. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she pulled back the curtains.

As she opened her mouth to question the guard closest to her, she suddenly caught sight of precisely what had caused their procession to halt.

Before them, not even thirty feet away, lay a great boulder, the length of some three horses and probably the weight of several houses. It jutted out of the ground from where it had presumably been displaced by a landslide generations ago. But along the flat top of sun-warmed rock lay a wolf of beastly proportions, covered in fur of a white so pure that it almost hurt to look at in the noon-day sun. Shizuru estimated it to be at least ten feet tall, and felt herself nervously swallow when the creature opened its mouth to lazily yawn, revealing fangs that were easily the size of daggers.

The captain of her guard was sweating profusely as the wolf suddenly and effortlessly jumped down from its resting place onto the path before them, digging its claws into the hard earth like a farmer tilling land as it stretched. One of Shizuru's attendants, who by this point had peaked her head out in equal curiosity, gave a squeal of fright before ducking her head back behind the curtains.

"Kill it!" yelled the captain. "Kill it quickly before it—"

Shizuru countermanded his orders without even thinking. "No, wait!"

The guards turned toward her confused, but obedient, their hands still fastened tightly to their weapons. For a moment, even she wondered why she had ordered them to stop. "It…it hasn't done anything to us yet. Surely if it wanted to attack, it would have already."

"My lady!" gasped the captain.

She held her ground, though, feeling more confident. "No, let it pass, if it will. It is ill luck to kill a god, or even a creature touched by the gods. And I don't know as we could survive picking a fight with this fellow anyway."

The captain smiled weakly at the statement, as if recognizing the unfortunate truth in it, but Shizuru was focused at the beast. Had it cocked its head at her words? Surely she was imagining things, but the creature seemed to have been listening to her. She shook her head, waiting to see what would happen.

Rather than attacking, as the captain feared, the wolf began to walk across the path, heading to the other side of the forest and toward the mountain. As it reached the far side of the path, though, it stopped for a moment, fixing Shizuru with a lupine glare. She internally started. The wolf had eyes as green as the first growth of spring. She stared back at it, holding her gaze without unblinkingly, all the while thinking feverishly, _I mean you no harm._

The wolf broke the staring contest first, closing its eyes. Then it gave a great snort that shook the air, and words suddenly thundered in Shizuru's head, cold, yet with an undercurrent of amusement, _Huh…humans._

And then the wolf was gone, disappeared into the woods.

All of the guards immediately turned to each other in wonder, asking if others had heard the voice in their heads, too.

Shizuru, however, remained silently shocked at something that none of the guards had seemed to notice in their excitement. The voice, whoever it had belonged to, was undoubtedly female.


	4. Land of the Impure

Natsuki dropped back into her human form to assess the carnage she had left behind. Most of the workers had fled when she had burst through the tree cover in wolf form to launch a ferocious attack on their operations. She knew that many of them believed that the broad daylight gave them greater safety from the beasts of the forests, naively so. Her midday assault had been perhaps all the more affective because of such foolhardy thoughts.

Although, a few unfortunately brave soldiers had refused to abandon their guard posts before her; their broken corpses now marked the area. It was distasteful work, but she took the time to go back through the work site, looking for any would-be stragglers. Experience had long since taught her to be thorough.

There was only one this time. A guardsman, whose inverted chest armor and choking breath indicated that she must have crushed his rib cage during her rampage, leaving him to slowly suffocate to death. His eyes widened in momentary and wordless terror as Natsuki knelt by his side, her glittering eyes emotionless. She spoke a quick prayer to the great forest spirit and then drew her dagger across his throat in a single fluid motion. The action was professionally swift, the blade drawn in such a direction that the fountain of arterial blood spurted away from her. She wiped the steel blade clean on the grass before re-sheathing it in her belt.

Her bright eyes narrowed as she examined the site closely, focusing in on the large, man-made pit that now scarred the earth. Nostrils flaring as she instinctively sniffed the air, she moved around to better examine the now decimated work site.

This was no lumber works, she quickly deduced. She knelt down again, but this time to look at a tool that had been discarded by a panicking worker. Instead of an axe head, the wooden haft was fixed into a long, metal crescent. It was undoubtedly a pick axe. Natsuki straightened, walking briskly over toward the tree line where the villagers had been cutting down the precious wood of the forest. She placed her hand on the great tree trunk that had just begun to feel the bite of an axe when she had come to its rescue. A few quiet moments of concentration later, and the cut had healed into an old scar when Natsuki removed her hand.

The settlement was still quite obviously trying to make use of the forest's lumber, as they always had, but the mining pit was a new development.

She thought of the arrogant lord who had managed to wound her, and then her thoughts slipped to the beautiful daughter of the Fujinos, with her unnaturally catching eyes.

In retrospect, she had no idea as to why she hadn't attacked then. To have killed a Fujino…the chance had not once come up before, but it would have struck a devastating blow to her enemies. And yet, when the woman had called her guards back, it had piqued Natsuki's curiosity. And when she had caught and held that crimson gaze, she had felt something entirely different than she could ever remember. Something hazy and restless that had sat in her mind ever since, making it hard to sleep at night as her mind constantly called up pictures of the woman, and memories of her own harshly buried past.

She ground her teeth, irritated both over not having taken action that day and over the fact that her thoughts were still wandering back to that woman. It was a pointless waste of her time and was currently diverting her from the tasks at hand. Brow furrowed, Natsuki's gaze inadvertently drifted back over toward the wrecked mining site.

She disappeared back into the trees, moving slowly and calmly for all that her stomach clenched in nervous anxiety.

* * *

As the name Oaken Ridge would indicate, the forest that the settlement had been built next to held an unearthly wealth of oak trees. And not just any oak tree species, but the rare blue oaks. Extremely slow-growing, the blue-gray bark and dark wood of the massive trees was nearly as hard as refined iron, and could easily fracture a poorly made axe. However, the high tool cost of lumbering the giant trees was easily surpassed by the precious demand for the uncommon material. The wood made beautiful and hardy furniture imbued with a rich natural aroma. And though the wood was loathe to ever burn, often just smoking instead of allowing flame, furnace pressing logs of it produced the highest quality of scribes' charcoal for ink. It was said that his Imperial Majesty in Kyoto had long since demanded that his own scribes and artists use no less than blue oak ink in all of their work.

At the very moment, Shizuru Fujino was, herself, making use of the famed ink, penning out another letter to an old friend and mentor of hers who was still currently enjoying the luxuries at the Imperial Court.

Her brush strokes were sure but delicate, making even her simple characters appear like a calligraphic work of art. Shizuru admired her work as it dried, considering the few letters she and her old friend Anh Lu had exchanged thus far since her relocation to Oaken Ridge.

Anh had certainly had quite a lot to say about the bizarre encounter Shizuru had the spirits of the forest, as well as the one Reito and his men had before her. "Intriguing" was the exact wording that had used, which, coming from Anh, meant a great deal more than if anyone else said it, in large part, too, _because_ no one else had said much on it

No one seemed to be particularly forthcoming over the question of the forest guardians. When she had asked Reito about the matter, he had told her, in no uncertain terms, that it was his duty here to ensure the success of Oaken Ridge as a production settlement and to remove all and any obstacles that stood in the way—as per orders of her father. Upon pressing the concern she had felt about the wolf being a god, or god-touched, Reito had shut down the discussion, his irritation at being questioned quite clear.

" _A god? Don't tell me you listen to those old wives tales, Shizuru."_

_She flushed, a mixture of both embarrassment and anger. "Do not patronize me, Reito. You have heard the stories as much as I. It serves no good to draw the fury of the old gods."_

_He laughed, now amused more than anything. "You are assuming they_ are _gods, Shizuru, dear. What is to say that they are? It is a beast, no more than that. Quite a large and particularly bloodthirsty one, no doubt, but it can be wounded and killed no different than any other wolf. These are the wilds, my dear, not Court. Rest your worries and leave the work to me and my men. What happens to the wildlife is of little concern to you, no?"_

For all that Shizuru knew both Reito and her father simply wanted them out of the way, she could not help but feel differently. She _knew_ there was something more in this. It was almost like a puzzle or mystery out of a childhood story, and she felt inexplicably compelled to solve it.

Much to her personal fortune, Anh, even if she did not share Shizuru's same interest in the matter, was at least more than willing to play along with her eccentricities rather than dismissing them out of hand. However, in the last letter she had received from Anh, her friend had touched upon an overlooked detail of information concerning the whole setup.

Shizuru had known for many years about Reito's heritage. His father had been the fifth son of the Kanzaki clan, ascending as the family patriarch after a vicious assassination had been dealt out to his older brothers and father through a blood feud. The bloody massacre had crippled the power and prestige that the newer Kanzaki clan had been steadily accruing over several generations. His mother, interestingly enough, was the last living descendent of the Kuga clan. Though there was not even a coin to the family name, Kuga was nonetheless an ancient and blue bloodline, equally as old as the Fujino line. Shizuru knew relatively little about the now-dead clan, except for the hushed and sorrowful tones that the lords and ladies at Imperial Court would speak in when they thought the young Kanzaki heir could not overhear them. They were whispers of a grandiose line that had fallen before the anger of the gods. A curse, they said.

It was, either by coincidence or something more, the Kuga clan that Anh had brought up in their last correspondence. She cited the initial "fall" of the Kugas over two hundred years ago when they resided and owned the land near this very mountain as the beginning of the forest troubles, though she admitted that even she could not clearly remember why. She had apologized, promising to look up the old story in the Imperial Archives and send it to Shizuru in her next letter. It was all very peculiar.

The rustling fabric of a moving person interrupted her musings. She turned toward the servant who had entered her quarters.

"Mistress Fujino," the young girl spoke, her eyes shyly downcast. "Dinner is about to be served."

Shizuru sighed and set down her brush.

* * *

The formal dining hall shone in the evening lantern light as kitchen servants soundlessly brought out plate after plate richly laden down with food. For all that Oaken Ridge lay on the farthest edge of the civilized provinces, they still were able to provide a plethora of exquisite dishes, each prepared to perfection.

She and Reito talked pleasantries as they dined together. Though curious, she avoided the subject of the most recently destroyed lumber cite from earlier in the day. It would only serve to sour his mood, and she knew, from experience, that he would divert the topic, stressing that she need not worry herself over it. As they chatted about her father's health and good luck throughout his life as the Fujino patriarch—be it from her own boldness or from the bottle of sake—Shizuru found herself asking back.

"What about your parents, Reito? I know that they both passed on when we were very young, but having known each other for so long, I must admit I find myself surprised when I realize I know little more than that."

Reito leaned back, his face unusually pensive as he both considered and remembered.

"Well," he spoke, beginning slowly. "As you know, my mother was the last descendent of the Kuga clan. For all that she was nearly destitute when my father married her, the Kuga clan used to be an extremely prosperous and noble bloodline—much like the Fujinos."

"They used to be the holders over these eastern lands, didn't they?" asked Shizuru, sipping from her cup of sake. The rice wine was rich in flavor, but not overly sweet, fermented to just the perfect degree for her tastes. Truly, the lands here were an agricultural wonder alone, if anything.

Reito bestowed a gentle smile. "Indeed. That was a great many generations ago, but these were their original feudal lands when the Kuga lords still commanded armies across the lands and their daughters still graced the Imperial Court. By all accounts, the Kugas were not a clan to be meddled with on any grounds."

"So what happened?" interjected Shizuru, genuinely curious as to how a clan could fall so far over the course of several generations.

Her fiancé shook his head. This time his was gaze dark. "Mother used to say it was the blood curse when she still lived. Some nonsense about an encounter and the wrath of an old god of the forest over two centuries ago."

Shizuru quirked her head to the side. "But you don't believe it."

Reito pushed his plate back, obviously starting to get annoyed with having to recall the subject. "I don't know what to believe. What I do know is that while there was a series of unfortunate happenings that occurred thereafter—poor luck in battles and marriage agreements, stillborn babies and young deaths—I also know that there was quite the string of human errors. Too many heirs decided to waste good money and men, dissolving the fortune and loyalty that had once made the Kugas so grand."

He shrugged then, as if to recall himself. "Stupid, but very human mistakes. Is that the curse of a god? If so, than perhaps I _am_ skeptical."

He smiled then, revealing perfectly white teeth. "But enough of such stories, my dear. Let us turn toward lighter subjects over dinner."

Her fiancé set his chopsticks down on his plate and folded his hands, leaning back into his seat.

"As I'm sure you're aware of, the primary value of this settlement has always been, quite literally, in the forest. For all that collection of the wood has been… _taxing_ , our losses have never outweighed the profit we still make."

Shizuru thought that the look of polite distaste on his face gave testament to just how taxing the efforts had been for a man who was clearly used to getting immediate results. She said nothing, though, as this was the first time Reito had truly spoken to her about the settlement and what they were doing here, so far from Imperial Court.

"However, the true riches of this land have only just been discovered." Reito paused here, turning around to signal one of the servants.

The footman approached the table quickly, holding a long box made out of the finest grain of soft walnut wood, with colorful images lacquered onto the cover. The craftsmanship on the box was impeccable, making it a treasure within itself, the joint work so smooth and flawless that the hinges could barely be distinguished.

The man knelt before Shizuru, his eyes cast downward demurely as he held the box aloft in his hands. When Shizuru raised a quizzical eyebrow, looking up toward Reito, he simply nodded, encouraging her on.

She undid the latch that held the wooden box firmly closed and, then, with both hands, lifted the lid open.

In the center of the silk-lined box lay a necklace and matching hair pin, both easily worth a small fortune. Tiny freshwater pearls winked and glittered in the firelight, all caught in a weaving mesh of finely crafted gold, silver, and a third, differently colored metal, something halfway between its counterparts.

Pleased with somewhat in her reaction, Reito signaled again, and two more servants rushed over to begin adorning Shizuru with the kingly gift. He smiled again when they had finished, running his eyes over Shizuru in a leisurely possessive manner, apparently satisfied with the outcome.

Shizuru, for her part, didn't even mind his raking gaze, she was too shocked with the sheer value of the gift. "Where on earth did you get this, Reito?"

He reached into his pocket, unearthing a small clump of dirtied ore to hold up in the candlelight. Though not so refined and polished as the necklace and hairpiece, the metal caught and held the light, veins of purer gold and silver hinted at here and there.

"Pure electrum," he spoke, his own tone betraying some of his wonder. "Sitting under the forest all these generations, just waiting to be found. And we've yet to even tap into it. Almost all that we've found so far has been from sifting through the streams that run down from the mountain."

He set the ore down on the table gently, gray eyes meeting Shizuru's. "That is why your father has sent me here, as my last test before I take your hand in marriage. By securing this ore for the Fujino legacy, we will have attained a financial security greater than that of any other warlord in the Imperial Court."

He finished triumphantly, his hand still resting on the raw ore as though it were the winning tile in a game of Mahjong. Shizuru stared at him for a very long time afterward, even when they resumed eating. She had first met Reito when she was not even six years old; they had played with each other, attended Imperial Court together, grown into adults together. And Shizuru had long since discovered a pleasantly useful ability within herself to manipulate the people around her. She could, for the most part, quickly discern a person's character, even just within a short time of meeting them, and use that to her advantage as needed. Reito had been more than a simple acquaintance to her for over a decade, but looking at the ruler of Oaken Ridge before her, the young samurai warlord and her betrothed, she keenly felt that she had not the faintest clue just whom Reito Kanzaki was anymore.

* * *

Shizuru retired to her rooms after dinner, immediately removing the heavy jewelry and allowing her hair to fall down onto her shoulders. She absentmindedly thanked one of her hand maids when they brought her usual cup of freshly steeped tea for the night; her mind was already elsewhere.

Another piece had fallen into place tonight. The presence of precious metals easily explained why her father had sent Reito here of all places, and also as to why the rationale was being kept to only a select few.

But it was just another piece. There were many more left to fill before she would find the answers to the questions that gnawed at her thoughts, Reito himself not being the least of them. Whatever had happened the smiling, mischievous boy that she held out of her childhood memories? They had certainly become more estranged in the past five years, as Shizuru spent nearly all her time in court, and Reito rode the frontiers with her father, suppressing rebellions and conquering new lands; but the man who now held her hand for marriage was a stranger, a cold individual whom she was certain was looking only to advance his own position in the world, and though she knew that had always been their respective fates, it made part of her shudder.

She peered down into the depths of her green tea as she blew over the steaming liquid to cool it. Her mind formed the image of eyes of the same hue without even trying, and she sighed as she recalled the gruffly feminine voice in her head.

She would be patient. And she would solve this mystery soon.

She needed to finish her letter to Ahn.


	5. The Oncoming Storm

Reito stood by the open window of his study, looking out over the workings of the town and beyond into the solid deep green of the forest that not even the bright rays of the morning sun could seem to pierce. The large brazier in his room crackled merrily, the fire playing light and shadows on his unusually gaunt face.

He was physically exhausted. Nearly a month earlier, he had sent an envoy to the Imperial Court in Kyoto, a small wagon laden down with treasures to bribe and win favors by. The envoy had returned successful, his wagon instead laden with a small library. For countless days and nights past, Reito and his most highly trusted lieutenants had poured over the hoard of scrolls. He had read through everything—scrolls, books, tablets, fragments. Some of them were elegant stories, penned out by master calligraphers, while others had been diaries, or even just leafs of trade logs.

Anything and everything related to the old mountain had been stashed into that wagon that had come back, and Reito had read through it all, regardless of how trivial or not each scroll had been.

And it seemed as though his dedication had not been without reason.

He had been searching, quietly and forcefully, for answers. Regardless of what he had told Shizuru, regardless of the dismissive tone by which Lord Fujino himself had spoken of the "beasts" of the forests, somewhat from his Kuga heritage held true—he knew that the great white wolf was more than a normal beast. Generations of story-tellers and villagers had spoken of Ookami, the old forest wolf-god who protected the sacred mountain upon which no human was allowed to trespass; but in the same breath, they spoke instead of the wild princess of the wolves, with eyes of the forest and a heart colder than the northern wind for all that she appeared human. And, of course, there were always the overarching stories of the great spirit of the forest, unseen by any but ever present and watchful.

So he had sent him men with the wagon full of gold back to the Imperial Archives to search for an answer in the old writings about how to kill the guardians, beast or human, godhood or no. His men had unknowingly returned with more than what he had even dreamed of.

It had been there, in the jumbled writings of an old priest who had passed through the forest itself many centuries ago. A bit of a heretic in his own right, the priest had diligently recorded down everything he knew of the sacred mountain forests and the old gods who jealously guarded it. There was more than that, though. Whispers of a sacred grotto untouched by man. Hints scattered here and there of a great tree, older than the mountain itself, in whose sap held the very power of the old gods, simply there for the taking if any mortal could but find it first.

Even now, he trembled when thinking about what he had found, and his nails dug into his hands, nearly drawing blood. A part of him wondered again briefly just what he was doing, if he had decided on the right course of action, but it was too late now to look back and change what he had done, and what he would now need to do.

He had committed blasphemy, choosing to burn those few scrolls that had contained the precious clues that he alone had uncovered. Should the whispers prove true, he intended to ensure that no other man come upon it besides him. The snap of flame in the brazier indicated that the fire was doing its properly destructive job. He had come upon a buried treasure in the Archives, a hidden gem that, if true, should make him more powerful than the emperor himself. And should it prove false…well, he now reasoned to himself, he would have accomplished the goal he was sent for anyway, and be leaving in a far better station than what he arrived in.

Reito was normally a very pragmatic man; but even given the few leads he had to go on, the scattered writings of heretics and criminals, the blood throbbed in his veins as he thought of it, urging him onward. He need not say it aloud, but he believed in the clues that had been left behind, and in the sacred power that merely waited for his touch.

But he was getting ahead of himself. One issue at a time, or all of his carefully laid down work would be disrupted by his own impatience. The original answer he had been searching for had been given to him from the Archives, as well.

He first needed to deal with this with the more immediate problem at hand, this "princess of the wolves", or whoever she was. He didn't really care; ultimately, be she spirit or god, she would fall to him, her forest soon to follow in her footsteps. He now felt confidant enough to name the white wolf and the forest princess as one in the same—a shape shifting menace to the guards and villagers alike. And he now felt more than confident in his ability to deal with the menace permanently.

He smiled to no one in particular.

Without turning around, he then opened his mouth, speaking sharply to the guard he knew stood by the door, but waiting for a command.

"Prepare a messenger. Send my summonings to the Okuzaki clan."

* * *

Shizuru stared out toward the western horizon from her own chambers, her thoughts unexpectedly consumed by memories of court and Kyoto.

Ever since her mother had passed away over six years earlier, Shizuru had essentially lived in the heart of the Imperial Court in central Kyoto. Her father had visited on and off over the years, periodically making his necessary appearances before the Emperor and his warlords and checking in on his only child. Their meetings had always been formal, professional, and brief. It was not say that her father did not love her. He was truly a very busy man; as a lord of a very long-standing prosperous clan, he had made his fair share of jealous enemies both in and out of the Imperial Court. By the very nature of politics as a warlord, it required his constant vigilance lest he stand to loose all that his family had gained.

And when his wife had passed, he had found himself at a greater loss concerning how to raise his daughter. As a result, he had ultimately decided to leave her in the tutelage of those wiser in such areas, and so Shizuru had spent much of her maturing years in the Imperial Court, learning all she need ever know from the ladies and scholars at her disposal.

And at Court, all skills went far beyond simple appearances.

She learned far more than how to look pretty and say the polite things. She learned how to blend into the background and avoid notice as much as how to be in the limelight. She learned how to coax the private thoughts and opinions out of solidly silent mouths. She learned how to appear as a harmless flower of the court, when in reality she was as well learned with a naginata as Reito was with his katana, and she was as familiar with the Imperial Archives as some of the best scholars and scribes.

And there were also some things, some better off hidden wants and desires, that she had learned about herself during her time there.

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she wondered just exactly what it was she was doing, not only here in Oaken Ridge, but with her life.

Even while at Court, though the times had been entertaining, she felt as though she had lacked direction. Some of the women found solace is securing a husband, some in found it in affairs, and many more found it the arts and other talents. These things had always been enjoyable for Shizuru, but she was never driven by them. And now that she was here in Oaken Ridge, at Reito's side, she found that she wondered all the more just what her existing talents and skills were there for. She felt the need to do  _something_ , now more than ever, but she could not say what, only that there was an increasingly insistent press both in her mind and in her stomach, as though it were something in particular that she should know but was forgetting. What disturbed her more was the sensation that whatever that "something" was, it was located here in Oaken Ridge and at the edge of civilization, not back in Kyoto or at court.

But enough of her ruminating. There were other issues more immediately at hand, and they revolved around her fiancé.

Reito was scheming something. That much she knew, though she was not certain of the specifics; she could hazard a solid guess that it had somewhat to do with the great white wolf. They had not spoken of the creature, whatever it was, since that dinner discussion nearly two months ago. Shizuru had not asked about it again, and Reito had not offered any more thoughts, but the mining and lumbering operations had continued, as had the systematic attacks. Reito himself had even led several attempts to slay the beast, all ending in obvious failure. It had been many weeks since he had last let a group of soldiers out on patrol, and he had holed himself up in his quarters for the past few days since his envoy had returned from Kyoto. Whatever had come back that wagon with the envoy was as much as mystery to her as to the rest of Oaken Ridge, but she was confident that it had to do with whatever her fiancé was planning.

As for Shizuru's own "plans", if they could even be called that, they had come to a dead end of sorts. Ahn had sent her a brief summary of the initial fall of the Kuga clan from nearly two centuries earlier, the point at which the forest and mountain were first recorded as turning "hostile", but the details were hazy at best. There had been a daughter who was killed by the forest, a wolf god who had been angered, and the start of what Reito's mother had referred to as the "blood curse". There was nothing concerning exactly  _why_  the forest, which had prior to been regarded as relatively benevolent, had so quickly reversed its stance.

So her puzzle remained a puzzle, and in the absence of any new information, she found herself instead increasingly frustrated by the stalemate in which she found her personal life, and which her mind so mind so quickly jumped back to again. She didn't have anything to  _do_  here. She felt restricted, almost caged. Even in Kyoto she had had greater freedom than here at Oaken Ridge, where she was almost completely confined to their residence on Reito's orders for her safety—orders, that she discovered almost to her surprise, were obeyed over hers if she tried to contradict them. She was used to her word being followed above all else—unless her father was in town—and now found herself instead analyzing what percentage of the garrison she knew was unquestionably loyal to her over Reito.

 _As if you actually were caged against your will!_  She was being silly now; her boredom would have her seeing conspiracies everywhere. But by the powers that were, she needed  _something_  to happen.

* * *

On that day, they arrived at dusk, just as the last light of the failing sun was touching the massive wooden gate that guarded the entryway into Oaken Ridge. The gate guards would swear that one moment the road was clear, and then the next, with a gust of wind and leaves, about ten strangers had stood in the middle of the empty road, their faces shadowed by the woven reed hats that they wore.

The smallest of the group stood forward as the clear chief, the rest following his lead despite his unimposing stature. His clear, almost adolescent voice called out to the gate guard.

"Open the gate. We are here on the business of Lord Kanzaki's summonings."

One guard opened his mouth to ask more, but the second man thought better of it, and cuffed his partner, shaking his head. The gate was then subsequently opened without any further delay. The current captain of the gate watch stepped forward to greet the newcomers, albeit warily.

"Welcome to Oaken Ridge. I am Captain Shiro. I will escort you to Lord Kanzaki's manor momentarily; let me but send one of my men ahead to prepare the way." He paused then, looking uncomfortable, for the strangers had barely said or moved at all. "Might I know who I speak with?"

The leader stepped forward once again, though his face was still hidden and shadowed by his hat. "I am Akira Okuzaki, and we are here by the request of Lord Reito Kanzaki. There is work to be done."

* * *

This was actually one of the first meals that Shizuru had taken with Reito in nearly a week. She noticed how tired her fiancé seemed, but deigned not to ask, especially after he told her that he was fine and had simply been hard at work.

After their exchange of typical pleasantries, she dared to ask her questions. "How does the mining operation go? Or the collection of lumber? You haven't spoken of it in some time, Reito."

In contrast to the usual vexation that would show through at her questions about their mining and lumber production, he gave a slow but smug smile, and Shizuru knew immediately that whatever secretive plans he had been forming were officially about to hatch, if they had not already.

"As per usual at the moment, but, if I may, I do believe they are about to get better."

At that exact moment, a servant entered into the dining hall, a group of cloaked and stern men in tow behind him.

"My lord," began the servant, sounding nervous. "Your guests have arrived."

Reito's smile turned into a full grin. "Excellent. I will be with you shortly, Akira."

It took a moment for Shizuru to realize that he was speaking to the short leader of the strange men.

"Please take my guests to my study. I will be with them in but a moment."

The servant bowed low and led the men away even while Reito set aside his chopsticks and napkin, rising from his seat.

"A correction on my part, Shizuru: I do believe that things just have gotten better."

"Taking your leave of me already, Reito?" she asked playfully, for all that she now felt unreasonably anxious.

He signed dramatically and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips before she could turn away. Her reticence caused a brief flash of annoyance to run through him. They were going to be married, it was only a matter of when. He knew that Shizuru wasn't in love with him, no more than he was in love with her, but she needed to accept that this was how things were going to be. No matter…she would come to terms with it soon. "I'm afraid I must, dear. I will join you for breakfast tomorrow. Be well."

Once he left the room she wiped her mouth against her napkin and then drained her cup of sake. Even afterward, she spent the rest of her time staring out into the window as the sun fully faded into night, her appetite dead. At last, her personal maid Aoi came forth at some point.

"I apologize, mistress, but are you finished?"

She adopted her mask easily, smiling at the maid. "Why yes, I am sorry. I was lost in thought, I'm afraid."

Aoi hesitated momentarily, and then spoke again. "Mistress Shizuru, pardon me, but…are you all right?"

Shizuru's mask cracked then, taken aback. But then again, Aoi had been with her for sometime—she should not be surprised that the maid could at least occasionally see through her mask. So while she refused to take her current mask off entirely, she spoke the truth. "I hope I will be, Aoi."


	6. Smoke, Ash, and Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Okuzaki ninjas now in Oaken Ridge, they have a job to complete under Reito's order. The only question remains: what will be the consequence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize--I'd wanted to get this chapter up earlier, but I was floored for most of this past week while I mobilized my personal army (a.k.a my immune system) to fight off a case of flu. You would think being sick and not working would mean more time to type and edit...but you would be wrong.

Akira Okuzaki sat comfortably in one of the highest branches of an old blue oak tree, an unmoving shadow that could barely be distinguished from the leaves themselves. She wore a strange cape-like overcoat made of the fresh pelt of a wild bear. It itched and made her uncomfortable with the extra bulk, but she knew better than to discard the covering. The very success of their mission relied on her and all of the ninjas who held their own positions in the foliage around her to continue wearing the fresh animal pelts that they had obtained. Without the pelts to mask their human scent, all could very easily go astray.

Though she knew that her father had a close personal relationship with the young heir to the Kanzaki clan, born from when Kanzaki had saved the Lord Okuzaki's life some many years earlier, Akira had never particularly liked the man. There was something distasteful about him that always seemed to put her off, though she could never pinpoint precisely what. Needless to say, she was eager to be done with the mission and be on her way out of Oaken Ridge and back to her home town and her father. She was eager to leave behind Reito, hopefully to never see him again.

" _Still binding your chest and posing as a man then, Akira?" Reito grinned as he asked the question._

_Akira glared at him, furious that he was bringing this up, and that he even knew her secret to begin with. He was one of the only living individuals outside of her clan who knew that she was actually a woman, and it never ceased to anger her. She ground her teeth and refused to respond to him, taking refuge in her hot tea._

_He smiled, and she knew he had seen right through her ruse without effort, even though he said nothing. Now desiring to be in his presence no longer than necessary, Akira cut straight to the issue at hand._

" _My team and I have responded to your summons, Kanzaki. What do you want us to do? Assassination? Infiltration? Theft?" These were but a few of the standard operations that the Okuzaki ninja clan could easily enact. Typically, they only offered such services for an exorbitant fee—they were, after all, very skilled in what they did—but Akira's father owed a life debt to Reito, so whatever he would ask of them would come at no price to him._

_Reito laughed as if at some private joke. "Oh, Akira, nothing quite so crude as that requires your services here, at the brink of the wilds. No doubt you are curious why I've summoned you here for a job?"_

_She remained silent, waiting with ease to see what he would reveal, and patient enough not to ask. There was a long pause._

" _I have a god that I need you to catch."_

Though she was not particularly religious herself, she had always been instilled with a strong respect for the gods and the spirits, and the entire directive of their mission—and Reito's general mission in Oaken Ridge overall—left a bad feeling in the pit of Akira's stomach. Incurring the karmic wrath of the gods never ended well, regardless of what material gains there were to be had.

Nonetheless, she was following the strict orders of her father to do whatever Reito's bidding was, so there was little choice in the matter. She and her men could only do as they would with any other job: complete it to the best of their ability…and she was confident on that much. They had spent the entire past week studiously planning and preparing for these next few hours, and Akira was certain that their work would not go to waste. Reito had been more than obliging in giving them as much background as he knew, as well as some tactics that he felt might help. She was still more than just a bit skeptical of the strange "binding recipe" that he had instructed them to use—and she still shuddered to think of some of the ingredients used in it—but they had it loaded into one of their nets anyway.

 _For a last resort_ , she thought, and one that they would hopefully have no need to use. Not for the first time, a part of her silently prayed that this creature they were targeting—god or no—would have sense enough to stay away today, and spare them all whatever goals Reito had in mind.

As the sun began to slowly sink toward the Western horizon, Akira cupped her hands in a clever position around her lips, letting loose a whistled call that would sound no different than any other bird cry to the untrained ear. To her fellow clan members, though, it was the signal they had been waiting for.

It was time to begin.

* * *

Natsuki was running. Despite having traveled every inch of the forest, she was lost. She couldn't place herself, no matter how hard she tried, and no matter how far she ran. Her senses were enveloped in confusion, disorienting her, and her breath rasped in her ears as she struggled to draw enough oxygen.

Suddenly she realized that she was in the sacred grotto. But the sky was dark with smoke and the spring slickened with blood. And the trees were set ablaze with a hungry flame. She turned toward the sacred tree, and time seemed to still. A human-sized figure stood before the great trunk, enveloped in shadow. So hazy was the outline that she could not distinguish even the gender.

But the eyes of the stranger drew her attention even in the ashen air. She squinted, trying to identify the color. They seemed at first a startling red, but now a hazy grey. Even as she struggled to make them out, they suddenly opened wide, pinning her with a terrible gaze the exact color of polished gold. A screaming howl rose up from both her and the figure, filled with a growing pain and anger that burnt through her muscles like electricity until she thought she would explode.

Natsuki jolted upright from where she had laid sleeping, abdominal muscles ripping violently with the forced motion. Her lips were curled back in kind of rictus of uncomprehending fear and pain, and her eyes were glassy still from the rapidly receding hold of the dream world.

After taking several long, harsh breaths, she regained her sense of the present, and the remnants of her dream gave way before reality. In the face of her consciousness, though, she rapidly became aware of the faint smell of smoke in the air and deep groaning of the forest through the earth.

This time, her face contorted in true anger at the gall of the humans. She rushed to the stone ledge that overlooked the mountainside from before her cave, quickly spotting the clouds of smoke that billowed out from where the forest ended near Oaken Ridge.

She did not even bother to grab her bow or spear from the cave, instead diving into the forest, assuming her lupine form immediately. Stupid or no, this time she had determined to give the humans a lesson they would not soon forget.

* * *

Akira watched the few men from Reito's garrison fueling the great bonfire that they had started near the edge of the forest. On Akira's signal nearly half an hour earlier, they had begun systematically felling the trees closest to the edge of the forest, indiscriminately throwing them into a massive heap where the bonfire now roared, sending sparks and tiny embers into the evening air. It seemed that the rumors were true, and the blue oak was very loathe to burn, but enough oil had rectified that issue and coaxed the fresh wood into a flaming pyre.

For their part, the soldiers grumbled half-heartedly under their breaths, complaining about having to do such menial work as they continued to hack down ancient trees and add them to the smoking inferno.

 _Such children_.

Only a year earlier, Akira would have let out a sigh of boredom, annoyed with apparent lack of results thus far. However, she knew better by now. She pushed away the thoughts that idled through her head, forcing her mind to focus only on the task at hand. She filtered out the snapping of the fire as the wood burned just as much the low buzz of the soldiers' conversations, focusing her senses instead on the sounds from the forest: the whisper of northerly wind,

Then she realized it. The forest was slowly growing quiet. The sound of birds squawking and animals fleeing was now muting itself out, falling into silence. Akira's muscles tightened, her mind instantaneously grew alert with heady anticipation of what was to come.

A low rhythmical thumping became audible for only a few short seconds before a flash of white charged through the undergrowth, breaking thick branches as though they were but twigs.

The great white wolf roared into the clearing, letting loose a chilling howl as if declaring war. The soldiers scattered in panic as the wolf tore through their ranks like a demon loose from hell, charging toward the bonfire. A second howl erupted from the beast's throat, and an icy wind surged in from the north, immediately quenching the fire.

As the wolf turned to focus on the soldiers, Akira let loose a piercing whistle, giving the go signal to her ninjas. She lithely hopped across to another tree and another branch, all the while watching their new target. Reito's descriptions, she decided, did not do the creature justice. Akira, like all ninjas trained in her clan, was familiar with a wide array of weapons, techniques, and animals, even those from beyond the border of Nippon. She had traveled to Zhong Guo once—the vast kingdom to the west of the ocean. She had stayed in the Chinese court for a summer, and seen all manner of things from across the known world that the Imperial Court in Kyoto could only begin to dream of. The mighty emperor of Zhong Guo had been more than pleased to show off his various trophies—great hunter cats called tigers and lions, strange striped horses and giant long-necked beasts from a land far away. She had even seen an elephant, so vast and towering it still made her shake to think of what it could do in a rampage.

It was not to say that the giant wolf was as large as an elephant, no, but it still dwarfed any creature that Akira had seen in some time. And it didn't behave like an animal either. Animals were easy to deal with, by her way of thinking. They were mindless beasts for the most part, incapable of logic or intelligence the way a human was. By that measure, they were easy to control or dispose of. But this "wolf", if you could even call it that, showed no such inclinations. It had rushed at them, out of the safety of the forest and into the smoky and burning clearing. When the first volley of throwing stars had been hurled at the beast, instead of cutting flesh, they had slowed and caught in the fur, falling harmless to the ground. And when Akira's lieutenant had ordered a further volley of their heavier and more sturdy kunai, the beast had dodged the strike entirely as though it were made of wind instead of fur.

Nothing that big should be able to move that fast. Nothing. That, along with the clear intelligence by which the wolf seemed to be learning their attacks, only further convinced Akira that the creature was more than a simple denizen of their own mortal world, to say nothing of its unearthly green eyes and gargantuan size.

Even so, she fought down the distress that welled up in her stomach and uttered a brief prayer to her own patron god. She was doing her duty as a ninja at the moment. Should any fell karma fall from the events that were to transpire…they should fall upon Kanzaki's head. Prayers done, she refocused back on the task at hand and trilled a complex whistle as she dropped down from her perch and into the brush.

There was no point in dallying with lesser techniques at the moment, and clearly if their throwing stars and knives could not touch the beast, poison darts would be a waste of time. At her whistle, both she and her the rest of her ninjas simultaneously tossed out their lead-weighted leather slings, and a multitude of the heavy bindings immediately ensnared and entangled the wolf, tying up its legs and weighing it down to the earth with a thunderous crash.

It strained and growled against the restraints, and before anyone could even think to approach it, the thick leather cording of the slings began to groan ominously as the beast strained, legs shifting ever so slightly.

A loud crack echoed through the air as the cords gave way before the unearthly strength, setting the wolf free to attack yet again, which it now did with a deadly intent, snapping its sizable jaws toward several nearby ninjas.

This time it was not a prayer but a curse that Akira uttered her breath. She was sweating heavily as she carefully dove between the trees and undergrowth until she found the ninja she was looking for. Her other clansmen were doing the right and proper job of irritating and distracting the wolf while she and her clan brother prepared their backup plan, but she feared for the lives of them as each second grew longer. They had no time left. She prepared their last resort diligently, readying the great net trap and the launching tube for its use. This was their last, and secret, weapon.

Explosive powder. The Chinese had first discovered it many centuries earlier, yet used it only for their fireworks and signals. But the Okuzaki clan had discovered a second use for the black powder many generations before. With the help of a great scholar in their clan, they had devised a mechanical tube—a great pipe that could be stuffed with trap nets. With the power of the Chinese explosive powder, the packed trap nets could then be ejected from the pipe with a speed far too great to evade, even for a god or demon.

Their device was a closely guarded secret; the great pipe had only ever been used a handful of times outside of the privacy of the Okuzaki home village, lest anyone else copy their covetous invention.

This particular weighted net had been further outfitted with the unholy "binding recipe" upon Reito's insistence, and though Akira was no where near as certain as Reito as to whether it would have any effect on the unnatural beast before them, they had little choice now but to try.

Akira and her compatriot hefted the tube, carefully training it above the undergrowth and on the form of the wolf as they lit the combustion wick. As soon as the wick burned down into the tube, a roar louder than a rockfall split the air, and the trap tube jolted backward with enough force to knock both of them several steps back. The crack of the net firing was immediately followed by the sound of a surprised yelp as it struck its intended target, and a thick swathe of smoke from the explosive powder clouded the air.

Akira unsheathed her iaito and coughed once, glad that she was wearing her face mask even in the hot summer weather; despite the visual obscurant, she made no rush to see if the trap had succeeded. After all, the desperate sounds of struggle were enough confirmation for her.

A howl then reverberated through the air, a screech of wild anger that ended sounding almost more like a scream of rage to Akira instead of a wolf's call. Curiosity piqued by that ethereal sound, she signaled to her subordinates as the smoke finally dissipated, and they at last convened on their target, now finally captured. Akira slowed as she approached. The heavy lead weights of the trap net forced its captive to lay flat on the ground, but it was no longer a great white wolf that lay before her, caught under the specially treated net.

She instead met gazes with the angry viridian eyes of the wolf, staring out at her through the body of a furiously yelling young woman, trapped prone against the dank earth by the trap which had been so meticulously prepared for her.


End file.
